Here With You
by katy04
Summary: Jim gets sick. Very, very sick. Total Jam fest.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone! I'm back with a new story...my second to be exact. I guess I can't stay away. Haha. This chapter isn't as long as the rest will be. It's almost like an introduction to the rest of the story - yet, I'm not really sure what the rest of the story entails. I guess we'll all get to be involved with the evolution as it takes place. With that said, have at it (that's what she said)._

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. God, that's so sad to say._

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**Chapter 1**

The incessant beeping of the alarm clock beside his bed was blaring in his ear. It had been for at least the last ten minutes. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't move. Every bone, every muscle, in his body ached. He was cold and shivery, but his body was slicked in sweat. His head was pounding and it wasn't because of the alarm clock, though it probably wasn't helping. He coughed and he felt like his insides were being hacked at with a machete and his throat screamed out in pain. To put it lamely, he was sick.

He finally mustered the strength to reach out his hand and turn off the alarm clock. In the process, however, he knocked the box of tissue to the floor and scraped his arm on the edge of his nightstand. He whimpered in pain, pulling his arm back underneath the covers. He tucked both arms tight to his body, rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up into his chest. His face was smashed against the pillow, pulling the left side of it taut.

Within mere seconds he was snoring gently against the pillow, but was ripped awake again when his stomach lurched. Even though he was in pain, he jumped out of bed quickly, with the agility of a cat and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the porcelain of the toilet, he attempted to empty his stomach for the fifth time in two hours. Unfortunately there was nothing left in there to get rid of, so he dry-heaved and finally sent up more green stomach bile. It tasted disgusting in his mouth and once he'd flushed the toilet, he leaned over the sink. He sucked in cool water from his cupped hand, swirled it around in his mouth and spit it back out in the sink. He splashed more over his face and ran a dripping hand back over his neck.

He stayed there, leaned over at the sink with the water running for five minutes. Finally, when he thought his stomach could handle it, he pushed himself into a standing position and turned off the water. Without wiping the water off his face, he staggered back out of the bathroom and collapsed in a heap on his bed.

Moaning to himself, he searched back through his memories and couldn't come up with a single time he'd felt this horrible. When he was 10-years old he'd had the chicken pox, but that hadn't made him sick. All he remembered from that illness was the itching and burning. At 12-years-old he'd had strep throat for the first time, but that had only caused his throat to hurt and he was able to take some bubble-gum flavored antibiotic to get rid of that. When he was 16-years-old, he remembered getting the flu, the worst so far, but it still didn't compare to this. And once, about 2 years ago, he'd had a case of food poisoning, and even though that was the most upchucking he'd done to that point, he still hadn't felt this awful.

Slowly he made his way across the bed to his night stand. He reached out his hand and grabbed his cell phone off the table and rolled over on his back, arms sprawled out away from his body. He turned his head gradually to look at the cell phone lying in his hand. His thumb flipped it open and the pain that shot through his thumb and up his arm was excruciating. He pushed the star key, the number 4 and then the send button. Whimpering again, he pulled his arm toward himself and put the phone to his ear. It was already ringing.

One…

Two…

Three times it rang and finally the voicemail system picked up and her voice came softly over the phone line. "You have reached the office of Dunder-Mifflin. Our office hours are Monday though Friday, 8am to 5pm. If you know your parties extension, please enter it now, otherwise wait for the tone and leave a message. Thank you."

He waited ten seconds and finally there was a beep on the other end of the phone. He opened his mouth to speak and realized he'd not even checked to see if he could. "Hey." His voice was weak and scratchy. Not only did he feel like he was dying, it seemed that he sounded like he was as well. "It's me." He coughed and again, every part of his body was screaming in agony. "I'm not feeling well." He attempted a laugh, but it only made him erupt into another fit of coughs. "Okay," he managed to choke out. "I think that's an understatement." He took a deep breath. He never appreciated how much effort there was involved in making a phone call. "I'm not going to be in today." His stomach was lurching again. He had to make this quick. "Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks." He hung up the phone quickly and darted to the bathroom.

When he emerged a little while later, his face was looking paler than it had before he'd gone into the bathroom. He collapsed on the bed again and heard the faint beeping of his cell phone. It took more exertion than he would have liked, but he searched for the phone he knew he had left on the bed. Finally, he sat up and saw that he had been laying on it. He picked it up and lay back down on the bed. He was shivering again. He crawled under the covers of his bed and pulled them tight to his chin. He looked at his cell and saw that he had a voicemail. He just didn't have the strength to check to see who it was.

His body gave one last giant shudder and he dropped his phone beside him. He fell asleep.

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_Okay, so there you have it. Thanks in advance for the reviews. :) Another chapter should be up in a couple of days. Yay!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey everyone. Sorry it took me so long to get Chapter 2 up, but here it is. I still don't have the slightest idea where this story is going to go exactly, but it's going either way. I hope you guys like it and keep the reviews coming. I really appreciate it when you guys let me know what you liked and didn't like - I do take constructive critism well, I swear. Okay, get at it (that's what she said.)_

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**Chapter 2**

Pam sat staring off into space. It was just past 9:00am and she hadn't received a single phone call yet; with the exception of the one she'd missed when she'd walked in the door that morning.

She had heard the phone ringing when she'd walked off the elevator. She'd like to say she had hurried to get to it, but she hadn't. When she'd walked up to her desk, she took a deep breath before picking up the phone. But, just as the receiver had hit her ear, she'd heard a dial tone. It had already gone to voicemail. Pam had set her purse down under her desk and removed her coat. After putting it on the coat rack, she'd walked back over to her desk, sat down and put the phone back to her ear. She'd hit the voicemail button and listened.

There had only been one voicemail and it had been Jim. The minute she'd heard his voice over the phone, raspy and weak, she'd known he was sick. But, until the hurried message was finished, she didn't realize how sick he was. She had quickly pushed a line and dialed his cell phone number – she knew it by heart - but it had only rang and rang. Finally the voicemail kicked on and she listened to his normal "Jim" voice say, "Hey, this is Jim. Leave me a message."

"Jim, it's Pam." She'd felt something in the pit of her stomach as she'd said his name. "I'm sorry I missed you. I was just walking in when you called. Give me a call back when you get this." She had wanted to say more, but wasn't sure what it was she wanted to say. Instead she had ended the call. "Bye."

And now it was over an hour later and he'd not called her back. Pam stared at the painting – her painting – on the wall and felt the knot in her stomach tighten. She wasn't quite sure why she was feeling so upset by Jim's apparent sickness. People got the flu everyday. Sure, she was kind of upset that he wasn't at work, but that was because he was her best friend. She was bored when he wasn't there. Who was she supposed to talk to? Who was she supposed to laugh with? Who was she supposed to have lunch with?

No, that wasn't what was bothering her. She knew what it was, but she was trying to find anything else. Maybe she could convince herself that it was one of those reasons and not what she felt deep down.

Pam sighed and turned to stare at her computer. She had noticed, briefly, that Michael had been staring at her. She was obviously making a spectacle of herself by just staring off into space. She quickly opened up a word document on her computer and busied herself with typing a memo.

Around 10:00am Pam couldn't take it any longer. She had to know how Jim was. She pulled on her jacket, picked up her purse, forwarded the phones to voicemail and walked over to Michael's door. She took a deep breath and rapped gently on his door.

"Come in!"

Pam turned the knob on Michael's door and pushed it open slightly. She peered in with her eyes half shut. Ever since she'd walked in on him naked from the waist down, Pam took caution when walking through Michael's door.

Michael was staring at her. "Pam, for the love of Bono, come in. I don't have all morning."

Pam pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked into Michael's office. She started to speak and realized that all his desk tops were topsy-turvy; some were even broken. "I," Pam paused. "Michael, what happened in here?"

Michael looked confused at first and then said, "Oh, this?" He gestured to the wreckage upon his desk. Pam nodded. "I was trying to hang this really cool lamp above my desk." He pulled out from behind his desk a mutilated knock-off of a Chinese lamp. "You know, I wanted to feng shui my office."

"Of course," Pam said.

"Right," Michael dropped the lamp back down behind his desk. "Anyway, when I was up there tying it into the ceiling, I dropped it." Using his hands to demonstrate, he held them way over his head and then dropped them and slapped them down onto his desk, causing the pieces of his toys to bounce. "BOOM!" He picked up a piece of his expandable ball. "And there you have it."

Pam nodded her head. "I see."

Michael was staring at the pieces on his desk when he suddenly looked up and said, "Pam, you're wearing your coat. Where are you going?"

Pam looked slightly alarmed. She realized that when she'd walked into Michael's office, she hadn't been prepared to give him a reason as to why she was leaving. "Well," she stammered. "I." She looked down at her hands and then, coming up with a brilliant idea, she looked up quickly with a smile. "I need to go to the store." She kneaded her hands together, as if she were embarrassed. "It's, well, that time of the month."

The minute the words had escaped her lips, Michael cringed. "Oh my God Pam. Please, go. I don't want to hear anymore."

Pam smiled and turned to walk out. "Thanks Michael, I'll be back soon."

She walked out of Michael's office, out the main door and pushed the button to the elevator. While she was standing there she started to realize what the end result would be from her telling Michael it was "that time of the month." She could see it now. Everyone in the office would know where she had gone, and Dwight would most likely ask her a plethora of questions about it.

She sighed as she got on the elevator. "Oh well," she said to herself as she pushed the button to the ground floor. She knew the end result would be worth it to check on Jim.

As the thought ran through her she felt a tingling sensation run up her toes through her body and shoot out of her finger tips. She tried to ignore it, but the smile on her lips betrayed her.

The elevator stopped on the ground floor and Pam walked out of the building and to her car. She got in, put the keys in the ignition, started the car and headed out, all the while a smile played on her lips.

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_Okay y'all, there it is. Let me know what you thought of it okay? Thanks. I'll have another chapter up in a week or so, I hope. My boss' husband passed away this weekend and I'm helping her with all the funeral plans, so I'm going to be pretty busy. Also, this coming Saturday is my daughter Grace's 1st birthday! So, yeah, I'll update when I get the chance. THANKS!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, here's Chapter 3 y'all...a lot sooner than I had planned huh? Today has been one of those days where I didn't have a lot to do at work other than give my boss big hugs and just make sure things went smoothly. So, to keep my mind off all the bad stuff, I decided I'd write some more. Plus, Grace told me if I updated my story, she'd post the last chapter of _20 Questions Plus One_ (which I think you all should check out), so here it is. :) LoL._

_Okay, so anyway, I have a lot of people who have added this story to their alerts list and their favorites list and whatever, but I only have 7 reviews. I'd really like it if you silent readers and "favorites people" would leave me some reviews so I know what you like about it. It has to be something if you add it to your favorites! Thanks._

_Oh, and PS to Grace - no they're not dating yet. Okay, go read now._

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**Chapter 3**

Jim woke up suddenly, sweat dripping from his brow, and he rushed to the bathroom again. In the last 90 minutes he'd thrown up another five times. Actually, he hadn't thrown up. What he had done was run into the bathroom, lean his head over into the toilet and dry-heaved his guts out. Each time more pain stabbed through his body and he had started to believe that he was, in fact, going to die.

His stomach, chest and throat ached from all the dry-heaving. Earlier he had tried to eat some saltine crackers. When he was a kid, his mom had always said saltine crackers and flat Vernor's Ginger Ale could cure anything that ailed you. Jim remembered, just then, that it was always funny when his mom had said that. Ale for ail.

So, after remembering his mom's words, he'd managed to make it out of his bed and down the hall to the kitchen. Granted, it took him nearly 10 minutes, since he'd stopped multiple times and just sat on the floor, his head between his knees. Once he had made it there, however, he realized he didn't have any Vernor's, but he did have some saltines. He had rummaged around in his cupboards and pulled out a box. Then taking one long package out of the box, he made his way back down to his room. The entire trip, from start to finish, had taken him 30 minutes. When he crawled back into bed he let out a long whimper and curled his body into a ball. The pain was excruciating.

Once the pain had subsided enough to uncurl his body, Jim opened the package of crackers and bit into one. His mouth was dry and the crackers were even more so. They stuck to the insides of his mouth as he chewed and when he breathed out his mouth, crumbs went flying onto his cold and sweaty t-shirt. He had continued to eat them, however, and finally got down five crackers. He'd pushed the package aside after that and curled back up under the covers.

The nap he had started was unfortunately short-lived. Within minutes he was back up and in the bathroom, puking up the bits of cracker, along with more stomach bile. He had lay back down afterwards and, while falling back asleep, wondered if his mom had really known anything at all.

And now here he was, with his head back in the toilet, dry-heaving and trying to keep his knees from giving out from underneath him. He had never been this weak in his entire life. If he didn't feel so sick, he'd be upset at himself for this one major fault. He was just happy he was alone and no one could see him like this.

He gingerly made his way back into the bedroom and collapsed again onto the top of his bed. Part of him was starting to worry. He had been feeling horrible since the night before and had been throwing up for nearly four hours. He couldn't keep any food down, and he hadn't had anything to drink since before he'd gone to bed at 11:00pm. Along with all the sweating he was doing, he was sure he was dehydrating. Even though he tried to push the thought away, he knew that if he didn't start to feel better soon, he was going to need to go to the hospital. However, his parents had moved to Buffalo a few years ago, so he couldn't call them to take him. And there was no way he was calling one of his friends. Unfortunately, it seemed his pride was going to get the better of him. It would be best if he just started feeling better.

He curled back up under the covers and wrapped them around himself. His body was shaking uncontrollably now and it seemed no matter how many blankets covered his body, he couldn't stop. He had a thought as his eyes drifted closed.

He could always call Pam. Pam, he felt, would not make fun of him at a time like this. She would, possibly, make fun of him later, but never in a hurtful way. She was sensitive enough, being a female, to know that he needed someone to help him. But, being his best friend, he could count on her to bring it up later, when he was able to laugh about it. Pam, he realized, would be the perfect person to call if he didn't start feeling better.

He was studying the back of his eyelids, seconds from falling asleep, when he heard a gentle knock at his front door. His eyes opened, but he decided to ignore it. Whoever it was needed to come back later; much later. Didn't they know a sick man was not to be disturbed? He listened for a second and when he didn't hear another knock, he closed his eyes again.

But, just then there was another knock, louder this time than the last. He let out a sigh, felt his body quake and then he pushed back the covers. It was obvious this person was not going to let him sleep. He started to make his way down the hall and had to stop only a foot outside his door. He was bent over at the waist, taking deep breaths to calm his stomach, when he heard another knock at the door.

He found his voice once he felt he wouldn't throw up if he opened his mouth. "I'll be right there!" His voice cracked and screeched. He was temporarily mortified that anyone had heard his voice like that. He started making his way down the hall again and mentally cursed the intruder at his door.

Another few minutes and two more stops finally put Jim at his front door. Leaning his giant frame against the wall beside the door, he raised his arm to unlock the deadbolt. His arm felt unusually heavy and he had to actually reach for the lock twice before he could grip it in his hand.

As he turned the lock, he felt his head spin and the spot on the wall that he was looking at revolved. His hand dropped from the deadbolt to the door handle and his stomach started to turn. He turned the doorknob and saw lights popping in front of his eyes. With difficulty he pulled it open and saw, behind the spinning and the pain in his stomach and the popping lights in front of his eyes, the gentle face smiling at him from the other side.

And then everything went dark.

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_Okay, thanks for reading guys. I hope you liked this chapter. I finally have a plan for this story, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes. Let me know if there's something you liked and/or didn't like about it. Thanks._


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so I couldn't stay away. I had to update. I got so excited when I got home from my second job and saw ALL those WONDERFUL reviews, that I just had to update. So, here in your Chapter 4. Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites and such. I love you all. You're awesome. :)_

_I do feel I need to answer a few questions though before you move on. First, this is set sometime in Season 4, but in my own little world Jim and Pam are not dating yet. After Jim left Karen in New York, Pam and Jim became really good friends again, but nothing happened other than that. It's just 'cause I like to write different ways for them to get together. LoL. So, yeah, that's the answer to that question._

_And to Grace, yes I am from Michigan. Haha. Is it that obvious with the Vernor's mention? LoL._

_Okay, go read now. :)_

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**Chapter 4**

Pam was driving with a purpose.

At first she had decided that the tightening in her stomach was only her worry about her best friend. But, the longer she thought and the more she felt, she knew it was something more.

Ever since she and Roy had broke up, she'd felt like closing herself to the unknown world of dating. Why would she want to start dating again? She had been with Roy for 10 years, and what had it gotten her? Why would she want to put herself through that again? What good could possibly come from putting herself out there, over and over again, just to find that all mean really were jerks?

But, deep down, Pam knew that not all men were like Roy. Hadn't Jim shown her that just by being her friend? Yes, she knew not all men were like Roy, but she knew she had missed her chance with Jim. During a time that she had already started to question her relationship with Roy, she shot Jim down. Why? Even now she couldn't give a confident answer. And yet, here she was, driving to him with a feeling that was taking over her entire body, mind and soul.

Pam was driving with a purpose.

She was actually driving with such a purpose, that she forgot to stop at the deli. As she passed by it the realization hit her and she slammed on the brakes. She heard a screech behind her and looked quickly into her rearview mirror to see a large, black SUV barely miss her rear bumper. Sheepishly she put up her hand to signal she was sorry and quickly turned into the parking lot of the dry cleaner next door to the deli.

As she got out of the car and locked the door, she made a mental note to try and pay more attention until she got to Jim's house. She didn't want to get in any sort of accident on the way.

She walked quickly past the dry cleaner and into the deli. There was a short woman behind the counter. She looked to be in her 50's and she had her dark graying hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, covered by a red visor that read "Deb's Deli." Pam got the impression that the woman was Deb, but thought that she'd never seen her there before. Pam smiled at her and she smiled back.

"Hello there, darlin' and welcome to Deb's Deli. What can I get for you?" Pam's grin grew. The slow enunciation in her greeting told Pam that she was very new at this job.

"I'd like to get a bowl of chicken noodle soup and half of ham sandwich." Pam read the small nametag on the front of the older woman's shirt and saw that her name was Betsy. "To go please, Betsy."

Betsy smiled and shuffled over to the crock of soup and started to dish it into a Styrofoam container. "Getting something for a sick friend?" Betsy asked as she put the lid on the container and started to work on the ham sandwich.

Pam looked at her slightly confused, "I'm sorry?"

Betsy just smiled. "It's only 10 o'clock in the morning honey. And chicken noodle soup cures all. I'm guessing that, unless you really enjoy chicken noodle soup, you're getting this for someone else." She looked up at Pam as she closed the to-go container holding the sandwich and started packing it in a small brown paper sack with the soup. "A man maybe?" she added, giving another smile.

Pam was shocked. Who was this woman? Yoda? Pam smiled. "A friend," she said and then pulled her wallet out of her purse. "What do I owe you?"

Betsy smiled again, punched a few buttons on the cash register and then there was a long beeping sound. Betsy looked up at Pam sheepishly. "I'm new," she said. "I can do everything in here that has to do with food, but for the life of me I can't figure out this blasted computer."

Pam forced a smile. She had a feeling this was going to take a while and she was getting antsy. She leaned forward and tried to look at the keys on the cash register, trying to look like she knew what she was looking at. "Well, did you press the 'subtotal' button?"

But Betsy wasn't listening to her. She had pulled out a large manual that had a picture of the cash register on the front and she was perching a pair of reading glasses on her nose. She started flipping through pages slowly, looking down her nose and through the glasses at the pages. "I know it's in here somewhere." She flipped another page. "I don't know why they don't just write 'How to fix the long beeping noise' rather than 'Cash register program error, subtotal repair'."

Pam sighed heavily and started to look at the menu above the woman's head. She quickly added up the total of one bowl of soup and half a sandwich, added a couple of dollars just in case and threw a 10 dollar bill down on the counter.

"I'm sorry," Pam said and put her hand on the paper bag. "I'm really in a hurry. Here's 10 dollars." She gestured to the money. "Keep the change."

Betsy just smiled at her. "Of course dear. I hope your friend," she emphasized the word with a smile. "Starts feeling better soon." Pam was at the door and she forced another smile. "Have a great day," Betsy added.

Pam just waved and walked out the door. As she moved quickly back to her car, she shook her head in disbelief. That woman had been extremely strange, but in a very cute "grandmotherly" way. Pam laughed as she slid into her car, set the paper bag in the passenger seat and started the car. Before she took off, she told herself to pay attention to the road and get to Jim's safely. A smile hit her lips when she thought of Jim's name, but she shook it off quickly. She needed to focus.

She pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the main road. The drive from the deli to Jim's was quick; only five minutes. When she pulled into his driveway and turned off the car, she took a deep breath. She felt the knot in her stomach again, but this time it was different. This knot was a nervousness that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Pam took another steadying breath, grabbed the paper bag from the passenger's seat and got out of the car. She walked to Jim's door, but before she knocked she had a moment on hesitation.

What in the world was she doing? Even now she didn't know. She was standing outside Jim's door without thinking of the end result. Sure, she and Jim were friends, but over the last 30 minutes, she had convinced herself that this wasn't just one friend taking care of a another friend. This was something else. And she didn't even know if she fully understood it herself.

Soon Pam realized that she looked absolutely ridiculous standing outside Jim's door, a paper bag in her hand, just staring. So, she mustered up some courage from deep down inside herself and knocked gently on the door and waited.

Jim was sick. She knew this. So why was she getting so upset that he hadn't gotten to the door yet? If he was truly, very sick, it was going to take him a minute or two to get to the door. But, unable to help herself, she knocked again, a little louder this time. He might not have heard her the first time.

And she waited.

And waited some more.

A rush of emotions was flooding her as she stood there. Why hadn't he come to the door? She looked back behind her and saw that his car was indeed parked in the driveway. She leaned back slightly and saw that there was a light on somewhere inside. She could see it gleaming out the front window.

Thinking that, if he had been in the bathroom or something, he might not have heard her knock, so she knocked again. That's when she heard him shout from the other side of the door. She winced when she heard his voice. He sounded horrible. She only hoped that seeing her would make him start to feel better.

She continued to wait by the door. Pam reasoned with herself. It was only taking him so long to get to the door because he needed to make things more presentable for company. She would get inside and Jim would be sick, but not so horrible that he wouldn't enjoy some company. A smile crept to her face.

Just then she heard him at the door, opening the lock. Her smile grew and she waited for him to open the door. Finally he pulled it open and she smiled at him, but knew right away that something was wrong.

"Jim?" Her smile faded and she shouted out The paper bag of his soup and sandwich hit the ground at the same time Jim did.

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_So, what did you think? Mad at me yet? I know, you thought you were gonna get some more from me huh? Haha, I fooled you. LoL. Okay, so I'll try to get another chapter up sometime tomorrow, but we'll see. I have a couple of busy days ahead of me and my EA exam is a week from Friday. I'm not nearly ready for it yet, so I need to do some studying. But, if you guys review lots and make me feel loved, you might get a chapter sooner. Haha. Okay, thanks for reading. Have a great night. I'm off to bed._

_P.S. GRACE! Update! I got two chapters up before you got your last one up. You're slackin':)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Okay, so you guys are getting really good with your reviews. I love you guys. LoL. And with that said, even though I was supposed to be studying, I finished chapter 5 and here it. LoL. I hope you guys like it. It's a little shorter, but once you start reading it you'll understand why. If you're lucky, I'll try to update with chapter 6 before I get to bed tonight. I might start being like _Avila Grace_ and wait until I have a certain amount of reviews on each chapter before I put up a new one. Ooouuu, wouldn't that just piss you off? LoL. Okay, go read now._

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**Chapter 5**

Things were fuzzy.

And there was more pain than there had been at any other moment over the last 24 hours.

Yet, consciousness was still slightly elusive.

"Jim?"

His eyes opened slightly; enough to only see a small sliver of light and a shadow standing over him. An overwhelming sense of calm came over him, comforting him like a warm blanket.

He wanted to say something.

"Uhhmm."

That was not it.

"Jim? Can you hear me?"

The sense of calm was going away. He realized the voice that was talking to him was not composed. Panicky would be the better word for it. He needed to say something. He wanted it to know he was okay.

"Uhhhmmm."

Still not it.

"Jim?!"

The voice was getting louder, more alarmed by the second, and yet he couldn't answer. He felt something cool and wet touch his forehead and streams of water cascaded down his face and into his open mouth. It all felt so good on his scorching skin. He tried to move his hand to reach out to the voice in front of him, but just couldn't do it.

"My God Jim, you're burning up."

The voice was becoming frightened. He felt, rather than saw, the voice get up off the floor and walk away from him.

Jim wanted to reassure it, tell it he was just fine. He just needed to get up off this hard floor.

"Pppuhhhmm."

That was closer.

"Jim."

The voice had come back and it was shaky, but he could hear a tentative laugh behind it.

"You surprise me more and more every day."

He wanted to smile and ask why, but he wasn't sure if he could interrupt the voice just let.

"Your bathroom is, without a doubt, the most organized thing I've ever seen."

He felt a long, skinny object being shoved in his mouth and under his tongue. The delicate hands attached to the voice clamped his mouth shut and held it that way.

"I just walked on in there and opened the medicine cabinet and WHAM! Everything has its own little place."

He realized that the voice was rambling.

"I never expected you to have such an organized bathroom."

The stick in his mouth was being pulled out. He opened his mouth to say something again, but didn't get the chance.

"Oh my God Jim!"

The voice was distressed.

"You have a temperature of 103."

He became distressed. Why hadn't he thought to take his own temperature earlier? The soft hands touched his face and lifted an eyelid. He saw a blurry outline of the voice. His eyelid closed again. He felt the hands touch the skin on his arms gently, and then trailed down to his hands. The hands pulled away quickly.

There was no word to describe the fear in the voice now.

"Jim! You're dehydrated. Badly. Jim! Jim, can you hear me?"

He could.

"Paauuuhhhm."

"Jim!"

The voice's hands slapped his face, not hard, but hard enough to make him groan. His eyelids opened a little more. The voice was blurry again in front of him.

"Jim, you need to wake up."

He tried to obey. The voice's arms were wrapping around his chest, trying to pull him into a standing position.

"Jim."

The voice was pleading with him now.

"Jim, you need to stand up."

He knew that. His legs just weren't cooperating.

"Jim."

The voice had become gentle and was whispering in his ear. The voice's breath tickled his ear.

"Jim, help me stand you up. I can't do it alone Jim."

He wanted to help the voice. He mustered all the strength his body would give him and he started to stand up, the voice's arms still around him.

"That's good Jim. That's good."

The voice was praising him, but he could hear a hint of tears in its throat. It motivated him to work harder.

He was standing now, his arm draped around the voice's slim shoulders. It was holding the majority of his weight, but he just couldn't do much more.

"Okay Jim. Let's walk okay?"

"Paaahhhmmm."

"Yeah, Jim, yeah. Help me get you to the car."

The voice was leading him somewhere, and he willed his heavy feet to go with it. It was a struggle, but the voice kept talking to him, reassuring him that he was doing well.

"That's good Jim. Okay, now sit down."

He lowered his body into a seat and the voice's hands picked up his feet and put them on a carpet of some sort. There was some sort of restraint over him. The voice was close to him.

Things were becoming foggy again.

A door slammed. There were lights popping in front of his eyes again. But they were closed.

Another door opened. His head was feeling heavy.

A car started. He leaned his spinning head back against the seat.

"Jim? You're going to be okay, Jim."

"Pam?"

"Yeah, Jim, yeah."

Everything was quiet.

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_I know you all love my cliffhangers. Don't deny it. LoL. Well, anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and I'll have another up soon. Thanks y'all._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey y'all. Sorry I didn't get this up last night. We had MAJOR drama in the house last night, so I didn't get much of anything done. Anyway, here's chapter 6. I want to thank you guys for all the reviews and such. It really makes me feel like I'm writing something people want to read. It really makes it worthwhile. So, anyway, here's chapter 6. I hope you guys like it._

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**Chapter 6**

It was a large waiting area and it had paintings on the walls. Pam had seen them, but she hadn't paid much attention. There were plants on the corner tables and a vending machine in the corner. She had noticed the plants were plastic and slightly dusty. She had thought she might go tell someone that a custodian should come up and clean them off. Instead she found a napkin on the table near the vending machine – that she had noticed was half empty, someone should do something about that – and wiped the leaves of one of the plants. After she had finished cleaning it off, she'd stood up and thrown the napkin away in a large waste basket near the waiting room door. Now she stood, alone, pacing in the waiting room.

Her mind kept going over what had happened at Jim's house. She kept seeing him slide to the ground. Over and over again his body was falling and lying broken on the floor. She kept trying to close her eyes, hoping to shut out the images, but it only made them more vibrant. She sat down in a not-so-comfortable, brown upholstered chair and rubbed her hands over her eyes.

She had been terrified when she'd saw how sick he really was. She had seen dehydration before. One time, a few years ago, Roy had been drinking heavily on a very hot and humid day; the Fourth of July to be exact. With every can of beer he chugged down and every ounce of sweat that came out of his pores, his body was dehydrating. By the time the day was over, his lips had been chapped, he couldn't lap up any water without throwing it right back up, and his skin was dry and wrinkled. Pam had to rush him to the ER, which only made him angrier than he'd been when she'd yelled at him for drinking so much, and he was on an IV drip for 24 hours.

Jim had looked ten times worse than Roy had that Fourth of July.

The images of seeing Jim like that were haunting her. He had been lying on the floor, mumbling incoherently, and she couldn't do anything. It's not that Jim was large, he was just really tall. And she is just really…not tall. And really not strong enough to pick him up and carry him to a bed. She'd tried to budge him. She'd known she needed to get him to the hospital. But, she just couldn't move him on her own.

Finally pleading with him had worked. It was like, the minute she started to beg him to help her, he found some sort of strength. It made Pam ache with tenderness. He had only made the effort when she'd asked him to do it for her. It was as if his life didn't mean enough to him, unless it meant enough to her.

Pam sighed. Or at least that's how it felt to her. She could have been reading into all of that, just because that's what she really wanted.

And now she sat, alone, in the waiting room. She was waiting until the doctor's had looked him over, set him up on the IV and made sure he was going to be okay, before she went in to see him. The majority of her was sure he was going to be fine, but a small part of her worried. It's what she did. She worried. Only this time, it wasn't about whether or not Roy was going to notice her new haircut. Or if Roy would talk to her after he found out she'd spent the whole afternoon at an art studio, instead of going out on the boat with him and his brother. No, this time she was only worried about Jim.

Jim.

Jim was the guy who had remembered her birthday every year, even when Roy had not. Jim was the one who had held her hand and hugged her when she'd found out her grandma had died. Jim was the one who would always make it his mission to make her feel better, without her even having to tell him she was upset. Jim was that guy.

Jim.

Pam stood back up and started pacing in the waiting room again. She was antsy and upset and worried. How in the world could she sit still when that many emotions were running through her?

Her cell phone started ringing. Pam looked down and hadn't even realized she was holding it – more like gripping it tightly. She stared at it for a moment and, as if she had just figured out what it was, she brought it to her ear and said, "Hello?"

"Pam, Pam thank you ma'am." It was Michael. "Where are you? You left over an hour ago, and I'm pretty sure getting femininin products shouldn't take this long."

Normally Pam would have some sort of annoyed retort, but right now she just didn't have the strength. "I'm at the hospital."

"Whoa! Lost a lot of blood eh?"

"Michael," Pam's voice was stern. "Stop. I'm at the hospital for Jim. I went to his house to check on him and he was dehydrated."

"Jimmy's sick?" He asked the question like he didn't even know Jim hadn't been at work all day. "We should all come."

"No!" Pam knew that would horrify Jim. "I'll call you when I know how he is and he's up for visitors, okay?" Michael was silent. Pam could almost see the hamster running on the wheel in his head. "Okay Michael?" Pam's voice had taken on a firm, motherly sort of tone.

"Okay." Michael sounded defeated and Pam knew she had succeeded in saving Jim at least another 2 hours before they were all here to gawk at him.

"Thank you," Pam said. "Goodbye Michael." She didn't wait for him to answer; she just turned off her phone and started pacing again. Just as she was doing her fifth lap of the waiting room, a doctor walked in.

"Pam Beesly?"

Pam nervously said, "Yes?"

The doctor was tall, like Jim, and in his 60's. His salt and pepper hair was short and conservative and he had a comforting smile on his face. Pam stared at him and thought she could see Jim looking like that in his 60's.

"Mr. Halpert is doing well," he answered. Pam breathed a sigh of relief. "He was about 10 dehydrated, so it's good that you brought him in when you did. I've already scolded him." He smiled at Pam and she felt all her worry vanish. "You can go in and see him now."

"Thank you," Pam practically whispered.

"No problem," the doctor answered. "He's in room 425."

Pam shook the doctor's outstretched hand and then walked out of the waiting room. She felt like her feet were stuck in cement blocks. She couldn't walk down the hall fast enough. Once she was standing outside his room, she placed a hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door.

Muffled through the door, she heard Jim say, "Come in." She noticed immediately that he sounded better, but tired. She turned the knob and walked into the room.

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_Okay, so don't get mad. You knew I couldn't give you any more. It's Jim's turn and don't you want to know everything that happened while Pam was pacing in the waiting room? Haha. Anyway, I'll try to have another chapter up by this evening, but it might not happen. I have my boss' husbands funeral today, so I'm going to be gone most of the day, and then I have to work tonight. But, if Gracie (my daughter) goes down for a nap in the next hour, I'll try. Alright, now you know what to do. REVIEW:)_


	7. Update

_Update:_

_Okay, so I'm really sorry I haven't gotten another chapter up quite yet. I've been having an awful time with Chapter 7 and I've rewritten it 3 times so far. It's half done right now, and I'll hopefully have it up by tomorrow. I'd have it up today, but it's Gracie's birthday today! YAY! I can't believe my little baby is 1 already! It's crazy._

_Anyway, I know you guys probably got all excited when you got your alerts, but I just wanted to let you know that I'll be back soon. Thanks guys. :)_


	8. Chapter 7

_Hey y'all. So, I said I'd get this up today and I kind of rushed to do it, so I hope it's okay. I still don't know if I'm completely happy with it, but you guys will be the judge. Like I said, I had three seperate copies of this - all different. I had a hard time with it. So, anyway, yeah. :)_

_And thanks for all the birthday wishes for Gracie. We had a nice, LONG day yesterday and had two really BIG parties for her. Let me tell you, I am all partied out for a while. LoL. But, it was fun. She had her own little cake and had it ALL over herself and she got lots of toys and books. And the whole day was about her, which is something she thoroughly enjoys. LoL. Okay, so go read now._

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**Chapter 7**

Jim was lying in the hospital bed, covered up to his chest with a warm blanket, staring out of the window to his right. He felt horrible, but he definitely felt better than he had before Pam had come to his rescue.

He sighed and scratched casually at the IV needle in the top of his hand. There was a large bruise there already. He had been so dehydrated, that the nurse had a hard time finding a vein to put the needle into. After the third stab and some very uncomfortable adjustments she'd made, it was finally resting in his hand nicely. It was covered with some tape to hold it down and he could see the fluid dripping into the tube slowly.

The doctor had told him he had a virus. "It's been going around," he'd said. Jim moved a little on the too-short bed. The doctor had added that because of the virus, and the fact that Jim had been too weak to drink something when he'd first started feeling bad, he started dehydrating. Then, because of the dehydration, it made him feel sicker and sicker, which had caused his constant vomiting. By the time Pam had brought him into the hospital, he'd lost about 10 percent of his bodies' water. Ten percent was a lot. The doctor had said, "You're lucky your girlfriend thought to check on you."

Jim hadn't corrected him. Pam was not his girlfriend, but just the sound of it had made him feel all warm and tingly inside. He felt somewhat ashamed though. Even though he'd thought of calling her only moments before she'd knocked at his door, he still felt ridiculous. Pam should never have had to see him like that. He had shown weakness and it disgusted him.

But, as he thought back, it had not made Pam think any less of him. She'd been so good to him when he'd collapsed at his door. She had been scared. He remembered the way her voice shook and how her hands had touched him gently. She had taken his temperature and put a washcloth on his forehead. She'd practically carried him to the door. Pam had done it all. He owed her a lot. He leaned his head back against the pillow and let out a sigh. How would he be able to repay her for this?

His eyes were drifting shut when he heard a tentative knock at his door. Moving his gaze from the window to the door, he said, "Come in." At least his voice was working properly now. He watched the door creak open and saw Pam stick her head inside. He smiled at her, the first genuine smile he'd done in quite a while. "Hey," he said.

Pam bit her lip and walked the rest of the way into the room, shutting the door behind her. "Hi," she said quietly, walking away from the door and standing, with her hands folded in front of her, at the foot of his bed.

Jim noticed how shy she looked and he found it strange and adorable all at once. He smiled at her again. "I owe you a great big thank you," he said and pointed towards the IV drip. "Dehydrated." She continued to stare at him and bite her lip, and it made him nervous. But, above all that, he was confused. This was not the Pam he was used to. When she didn't respond, he cocked his head slightly to the side and said, "What's wrong?"

She wasn't looking at him, he finally realized, but was sort of staring at his feet under the covers. He waited. He wasn't going to say anything else. He knew she was thinking - maybe of the right thing to say - and he wasn't going to interrupt her. He knew she'd talk when she was ready.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but in actuality was only about 20 seconds, she said, "I've never told anyone this." She stopped and her hands that were folded together in front of her were turning slightly white. She was gripping them together so tightly that it seemed she was cutting off the blood circulation. "But, I hate hospitals."

In spite of himself, Jim smiled. She was down-right beautiful when she was nervous. "Pam, hospitals save people. What's so scary about that?"

She sat there biting her bottom lip and finally looked up at him. "They can't always save people." He heard the tears in her voice before he saw them well into her eyes. His heart broke into a million pieces when he saw them drip down her cheeks softly. She wasn't hysterically crying. She wasn't even making a noise. The tears were just streaking down her cheeks gently and it made her more stunning than he'd ever imagined she could be.

She dropped her gaze back to her feet again and Jim tried to get up to go over to her, but the IV pole was on the other side of the bed and the tubing was too short. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't have to say anything, because Pam continued.

"My grandfather died a month before we met." She was still staring at his feet and he could see the tears dripping down her cheeks and onto the foot of his bed. "He had been in his bathroom, getting ready for the day and had a heart attack." She folded her arms in front of her and let out a small sob before continuing. "My grandma heard him fall and called 911. They got him to the hospital and they said everything was going to be okay. He had been lucky, they said." Pam lifted her eyes to his and tears glistened on every part of her face. "He wasn't okay though. He died in his sleep that night. He had another heart attack and before the doctors had even made it to his room, he was gone."

He had tears in his eyes too and, for once, he didn't feel ashamed. "Pam," he said, but she held up her hand to stop him. He stopped, but continued to watch her. Finally she moved forward and stood beside him. She reached out a hand and tentatively touched the bruise and IV needle on his hand, and then she grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

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_Okay, there you have it. I hope you guys liked it. I don't know if I'll have another chapter up until the end of the week though. My test is Friday and I have to CRAM all week. But, if I need a break I'll try to write. Thanks!_

_P.S. REVIEW:) Thanks._


	9. Chapter 8

_Hey y'all. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, etc. I love you guys. Also, a big THANK YOU to Avila Grace for the Beta. You're awesome. And, let's see, what else? Eh, I got nothing. Just go read. :)_

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**Chapter 8**

Pam was squeezing his hand and the tears were falling down her cheeks. She wasn't quite sure what had come over her when she'd walked into his room. Maybe it was seeing him lay there, the tubes running down and affixed to his arm, and the paleness of his face. Granted, he looked better than he had, but she hadn't been comfortable in a hospital since her grandfather had passed away. And now, seeing her best friend in one, made her feel something strange and upsetting in the pit of her stomach.

His fingers were brushing gently over the top of her hand, but she still couldn't look at him. She was too embarrassed. She had come into his room and he had been smiling at her. Maybe it was the smile that had done it. Her grandfather had smiled at her when she'd visited him in the hospital that day. Everything had seemed so okay and then it was all ripped away. Pam had lost her grandfather, someone she loved dearly; she wasn't about to lose Jim as well.

She watched their fingers intertwine and she felt a pang somewhere in her heart. When she had held hands with Roy, she never felt anything, even when they were younger and had just started dating. She had heard somewhere before that you know you've found your soul mate when you hold hands for the first time, you feel it all the way through your body. She had held hands with Jim before. Not like this, but she had held his hand, and she had felt it then. It was a kind of warmth that had shot through her, heating her entire body from the core, causing something to stir deep inside her. When she had felt it the first time, she'd passed it off as being embarrassed at Roy's outrage when he'd come in the office and saw them. But now, while she was holding Jim's hand so tightly in hers, she knew it hadn't been embarrassment. It had been the feeling you get when you've found your soul mate.

"Hey." They had been silent for so long that she'd almost forgotten that they could both speak. She slowly lifted her eyes to his and saw him smile gently. Her heart felt like it could explode in her chest; it was so full of love. "Pam, I'm very sorry about your grandfather." If that was all he had said it would have been enough. She wanted to lean down and wrap her arms around him. "But, I promise, thanks to you, I will be going home by tomorrow." She felt tears sting her eyes again. She couldn't stop them from spilling over and down her already tear-soaked cheeks. "You are amazing. Thank you." The words came off his lips in almost a whisper, yet she felt like they were screaming inside her mind. She is amazing; he said she is amazing.

"Jim." She starts to speak and Jim shakes his head to make her stop. She closes her mouth and they just stare at each other. His thumb still rubbing the top of her hand and it's like the most natural thing in the world. Pam lets out a small sigh, shifts her gaze to the wall behind Jim's head and then sits down beside him on the bed. He moves over enough to allow her room to sit next to him, but they never let go of each other's hands. They sit in silence, looking at each other, and then looking away, neither one of them uncomfortable with the situation. It was as if they had spent their whole lives together and knew what the other was thinking without ever having to speak; looking at each other was always enough.

Finally, Pam felt she needed to say something, but not because of the silence. She needed to say something to let Jim know what she was feeling. She needed to say it out loud. It wasn't something she wanted to continuously convey through longing looks. She wanted him to understand, completely. "Jim." He had been looking at the sheets on his bed, still rubbing her hand, but he looked up at the sound of his name. A smile touched his lips and it took Pam everything she had not to reach out her hand and touch them gently. "I." She was stammering. She didn't know why. She had all the things she wanted to say right at the tip of her tongue. She had been thinking them for the last ten minutes. No, she had been thinking them for the last 4 years. Why weren't the words coming out as easily as they sat in her mind? "I." Jim tightened the grip on her hand in a reassuring way and she felt the nervousness lift from her soul. She smiled gently and squeezed his hand back. "I'm so glad you're okay." She adjusted herself on Jim's bed, moving to look at him more squarely in the eye. "When I saw you lying on the floor at your house," she paused and a shudder racked her body. "I don't ever want to see you like that again." She finished simply, not knowing if she could continue on and tell him everything.

Jim didn't let her continue. "As long as you're around, I don't think that will be a problem." He smiled at her and she had to smile back. It was infectious. He let got of her hand and put both of his hands on either side of her, gripping her arms, and then rubbed his hands up and down her, like he was trying to warm her cold body. "What you did, Pam, it means the world to me. The fact that you even felt you needed to come check on me." He stopped in an awestruck silence, looking down at the bed again. He lifted his eyes to her finally and looked deep into Pam's soul through her eyes. "I love you for it."

Pam felt her breath catch in her throat and her body went limp with pleasure. Hearing those words come tumbling out of Jim's mouth lit a fire inside her; a fire she doubted would ever go away. He was staring at her, long and hard, and it wasn't making it any easier for her to come back with a response. She could see, in his eyes, all the love and passion he had. For her. Everything she felt for him was reflected back at her through his eyes. She wondered if she'd ever be able to speak again.

Jim continued to watch her. She knew she needed to say something. She felt her face probably showed fear, doubt and pain just by the way he continued to look at her, his face constantly falling. She needed to say something.

He didn't give her the chance. "Anyway." His voice had a slightly icy edge to it. "Thank you. For everything." He looked at her and attempted a smile. It looked forced. "You probably need to get back to work huh?"

Pam knew it was now or never. She willed herself to speak. "Jim." He was shaking his head and pulling his hands away from her. She was losing him. She couldn't lose him. She wouldn't. "Jim." He was looking away from her and she could feel all those warm feelings slipping away. "Jim." She put her hands on either side of his face and turned him to look at her. She leaned in closer to him. It was now or never and she knew that. A smile was spreading across his lips again and she felt that flame inside her spark up and overtake her.

Leaning forward more, her hands still on his face, she pressed her smiling lips against his smiling lips ever so gently. She feeling that erupted through her body was something she'd never felt before; something she never thought she'd ever feel.

This was love.

Finally she pulled herself away from him, but not wanting to open her eyes. Instead she rested her forehead against his and she felt his arms around her waist. It took her some time, but she finally opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her. She felt embarrassed, but sure of herself. She was shy, but confident. She was someone else, but she was finally the Pam Beesly she wanted to be.

"Jim." Her voice was a whisper, and he didn't respond, but only nodded his head gently. "There is no where I'd rather be right now, than here with you."

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_Okay, so if you haven't figured it out already, that's the last of it folks. Sorry. :) I hope you guys liked it. Please REVIEW. I really like to know what you guys liked and/or didn't like. It makes it easier for me to write more or other things, knowing what you guys want to see. Okay? Thanks. :)_

_Anyway, thanks for all the support through this story. I had WAY more hits and comments and alerts and favorites and whatever for this story than I did for my first one. So, maybe I'm growing on you guys. :) Let's hope. Anyway, thanks again and I'll be back soon. I'm working on an angsty oneshot of Jim that I should hopefully have up by this weekend. Yay!_

_REVIEW:)_


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